Doppelganger
by LadySirius32158
Summary: Damon takes a stroll and chances upon Elena, alone - what are the odds of that? And what does he intend to do about it?
1. Doppelganger

The knowledge that Katherine was alive, and not only alive but uncaring, unfeeling, and uninterested in him or in being re-united with him, lacerated Damon's sensibilities with all the precision of a scalpel, tearing at his emotions. Dammit, he could have remained an unfeeling automoton, he'd done just fine without having any feelings. Why had he even considered that to be such a good idea, anyway?

Of course he knew the answer to that question without thinking too goddamn hard. Elena Gilbert. Katherine's doppelganger. Her twin in face, but luckily not in personality. A second Katherine he did not need.

The night was crisp to the point of exhilarating. Damon was walking just for the pure unadulterated joy of the freedom of motion. He had no particular destination in mind, although he would have denied that, if asked. Caroline Forbes was in the back of his mind, but she never made the move to his consciousness, so remained unconsidered. He didn't have the inclination to put up with her mother's inanities either - another time, perhaps, he would amuse himself as the confidante of those in Mystic Falls who were determined to rid the town of its vampires, chief among whom was himself. But tonight that simply sounded boring.

He paused to sniff at the air, putting back his well-molded head, closing his eyes, allowing the flavors of the night to tease at him, even as the night breeze caressed his soft skin. Although he could walk during the day, thanks to the lapis lazuli ring he'd been given, as had his brother Stefan, by she who must be forever unnamed, he preferred the night with all its mysteries to the glare of Sol's domain. He was unaware at first that he was not alone, at least he gave that impression. But actually he was more than aware of her presence. He was too attuned to her not to. Yet he did not open his eyes right away, allowing her scent to mingle with that of the night in glorious harmony.

"Penny for your thoughts," she said at last.

"Not worth it," he rejoined, a small smirk playing about his lips, "or so I've been told." His lids fluttered open at last, and he met her gaze with his own piercing blue seductive stare. "Taking an evening constitutional?"

"I was just about to ask you that," she nodded behind him, where the Gilbert home lay. He hadn't even realized that he had taken that particular route. Interesting. "You're the one that's away from his home, not me."

"All of Mystic Falls is my home," he replied cryptically, glancing about, as if looking for someone or something.

"He's meeting me," she smiled. Ah, that explained why she felt so secure in braving his company. Prince Charmless was on his way. Still, he wasn't here yet, was he?

"Walk with me?" he asked, brazenly offering her his arm. She hesitated for just a moment, before taking it.

"Of course," she replied, "as long as we stay where Stefan can find us...."

Damon tsked, clicked his tongue against his perfect white teeth. "That'll make sweeping you off your feet difficult, then, m'lady," he bantered, leaning in toward her, filling her with his oh so masculine presence. Unfazed, she simply laid a gentle hand upon his chest and increased the distance between them. He chuckled at her boldness. He could have compelled her. But he chose not to. For reasons best known only to himself, and even he would have been hard-pressed to name them.

But someday she would be his. Of that he was determined.

So they began a circuit of the sidewalk before the Gilbert home, stopping at one end, turning about and moving toward the other, strolling slowly and methodically. Damon could not help but picture her in a hoop skirt, parasol and lace, and laughing mischief. Such a different time. Slower. In many ways, more sensual.

"Damon," Elena began, hesitantly. "I haven't seen much of you lately. Are you okay?" Her discreet way of asking had his heart mended since his discovery of Katherine's perfidy, without coming out and referencing her Civil War twin directly. How very genteel of her. And actually, although the subject was a sore spot with him, her concern was rather touching.

"Of course I am," he demurred, his brows drawing in in that way he had of frowning which was so very endearing and sexy in and of itself, affecting indifference to the implied subject at hand. It wasn't in his nature to be forthcoming about his feelings, though he supposed his brother, Mr. Touchy Feely Vampire - the good brother - was all about sharing his every last thought and heartfelt emotion. Blech, that almost made him nauseous to consider. What the hell had Katherine been thinking when she'd turned Stefan?

Of course, why had she turned either one of them, just to drop them like proverbial hot potatoes when the chance arose? He winced, pushing aside that line of reflection as unworthy and uninteresting. Why had she just stopped walking, though? Forcing him to stop as well, as they were still conjoined at the arm? He gave her a questioning look, guarded.

"You know," she began carefully, picking her way through the minefield which was that subject, although she was bursting with curiousity on so many scores about the woman whom she resembled, "if you ever want to .... talk.... or anything...... " She left the rest open, but he understood. And he appreciated the effort it cost her to say it, knowing how unlikely Stefan was to be very receptive to her offer of playing Dr. Phil to him. Interesting simile that, by the way. Which brought a small smile to his lips. Her offer, not Doctor Phil, that is.

"I'll remember that," he said softly, no trace of sarcasm in his tone, just sincerity. He meant it. Maybe some day he would talk to her about..... the other. Just not right this minute. He felt himself swaying toward her, almost involuntarily. This time, she did not draw back. His eyes were focused upon her lips, his own lips parting just enough, that should these two pair of lips come together.... He held his breath, in anticipation.

"There you are, little love...." The moment was inexorably broken, and Elena retreated, like the mongoose freed from the cobra's spell, her hand falling away from Damon's arm, their link broken.

"Here I am," she returned his greeting, turning to smile at her lover's approach. Stefan's eyes upon his brother were mistrustful, doubting.

"Well, seeing as Sir Galahad is here," Damon quipped, "methinks it is time that Sir Lancelot withdrew from the field. I bid you good night." He bowed toward them both, one hand upon his mid section, in a modified salaam. He winked at his brother almost insolently, before turning and walking away, leaving them to themselves, before they could speak a word of protestation. Assuming they wished to do so, that is.

It took a few moments for something in Elena's mind to click. But wait, she almost protested, how can that be, when Sir Lancelot is the one that ends up with the girl, not Sir Galahad..... But she kept her thoughts to herself, watching him stroll away, out of sight.

Right, as if he hadn't known that all along.


	2. Twilight's Last Gleaming

Twilight's Last Gleaming

The silence between them stretched unbroken, long after Damon's shadow had receded after its master. Stefan hated himself for his jealousy of his brother; he should feel compassion for Damon's suffering. And maybe he would, if his brother wasn't always trying to steal his girl from him. Stefan wasn't stupid, he could see it happening beneath his very nose. At least he could see Damon making the attempt.

The success of his enterprise depended upon Elena, and he trusted her with his heart, completely. It was Damon he didn't trust any farther than he could throw him. Alright, maybe that was a poor simile. Stefan Salvatore was far from being a weakling.

"He's stronger than he looks," Stefan began.

"He's not as strong as he looks," Elena ventured, their words colliding in mid-air.

They both took a breath, looked at one another, then away.

"Did she ever truly love him?"

Stefan did not answer immediately, turning the question over in his methodical way, before replying. "I do not think Katherine was capable of love," he said candidly.

"But didn't she love you both?"

Stefan shrugged. "She pretended to, at least. But judging by what happened, I do not think she truly did. I wish I could spare him that, but I cannot....."

"And yet she turned you both....." Not a question, simply a statement of fact. No answer was necessary. "Stefan, did you love her? Is there something in me that seems like what you had with her, is that part of what draws you to me?"

"No, no," Stefan protested, "it wasn't like that between Katherine and me..... not like that at all. And that's not how it is with us...."

"Then tell me, what was it like? I really need to know." And to understand. It was hard for her to move forward when so much of her seemed to be mired in the past, caught up with Katherine, even if she'd never met her and never would.

"I don't know how to explain it." He frowned, running one hand through his thick dark hair, his Latin heritage very visible in his dark eyes and swarthy skin, his solid jaw. But on the other hand, within Damon resided the Latin lover - the smoldering eyes, the knowing smirk, and the soft words. It wasn't that Stefan was attempting to hide anything, but it was so very long ago, and even a vampire's emotions dulled with time, were forgotten. "I was very young," he offered at last, knowing it was a lame excuse, and a clumsy one. But at the moment it was the only one he had. "She dazzled me."

Elena had to laugh, remembering something Damon had said to her recently, as he frowned over a copy of Twilight, deriding it even as he read it. What else had he said? Oh yes, something about Edward being so whipped.

"Was I funny?" Stefan asked, smiling at her, his own sweet angel. His one true love. And one his brother would never have, if he had anything to say about it. And he did.

Elena shrugged, a gesture which she made elegant just by the nature of her being. "When you said dazzled," she tried to explain. "You know. Like that book. The one Damon hates...."

Why was everything revolving around Damon tonight? Stefan didn't like this growing trend. He really didn't trust his brother, not at all. He had a chip on his shoulder, a very old one, and he was never one to let bygones be bygones. Was that what he was doing - an eye for an eye? Or in this case an Elena for a Katherine? That would be so like Damon, wouldn't it? Selfish to the end. He didn't know the book, and it didn't matter. What mattered was that she and Damon seemed to share an inside joke. If it had been any one else, even Matt, her long time boyfriend now ex, he wouldn't have minded. But Damon.....

"I just meant that I never met anyone like her before, and I was too young and innocent to know better."

"So was he, I think," she said softly, turning to look again at the spot where Damon had last been seen. Only shadows remained.

The silence between them grew, and deepened. "Be kind to him," she murmured, "he doesn't have your strength, and you didn't really love her, that's what sustains you."

Stefan wanted to scoff at the notion that his brother could really feel such an emotion as love, but he sensed that that would not go over well, so he didn't. Instead, he averred, "I will, as much as he will allow."

Elena stifled a small yawn. "I guess I should go in, school tomorrow. Before Aunt Jenna sends out the rescue team." She smiled wanly, the rising breeze picking up her hair, almost caressing her cheek. She forced herself not to compare it to Damon's touch.

"Then I shall go," he said gallantly, reaching for her lips. "See you tomorrow in school?"

"Tomorrow," she nodded, returning the kiss easily. "Good night, Stefan."

"Good night, little love, sleep well." One last kiss for good measure, and she was inside the door, heading up the stairs, and he was heading back down the front walk. Neither one saw the self-satisfied crow in the tree beside the house. The one with the swollen ego. Once the light in Elena's room went out, he took to the skies, meditating on what he had just heard - and speculating on how he could use it to his own best advantage.


End file.
